Once upon a time, there was a Little Ocean. Little Ocean was peaceful and blissful–yet also bored and not learning much.
Little Ocean became jealous of its own waves. In its discontent, Little Ocean admired its great big waves galloping into the shore like a herd of horses moving as one. The Ocean also enjoyed watching small waves, each beautiful too, swelling up, one by one, up out of oneness; and, into individual expression. Each little wave birthed some fine white foam, like a head of curls, and then dashed itself onto the beach to merge with the sand. The ocean imagined being a wave was more exciting than being an old, boring ocean.
Little Ocean said, “I want to do that!” I will no longer be boring old Ocean; I will be a wave rider!” Little Ocean had not yet heard about the grass always seeming greener on the other side of the fence.
So Little Ocean tried being aware of itself only as its waves. Out of all the waves in itself, it focused its attention on the “biography” of only one wave. It followed the wave from its beginning, swelling up out of oneness, into individual expression, dashing itself onto the sandy beach. Then Little Ocean shifted its attention to another single wave and followed it, to its inevitable conclusion.
After following a million single waves, Little Ocean said, “This is interesting–and exhausting! I spend all my time and energy ‘waving’ over and over again.”
Finally it learned a more workable way. It could alternate attention, back and forth, between attending to a single wave-expression; then, return to attend to itself as an ocean, expressing oneness–doing-being, doing-being, doing-being.
As Little Ocean accepted this rhythm, it became accustomed to going back and forth between wave and ocean. It realized insects and reptiles; and many other expressions, are good examples of individuality, barely out of the Ocean of Oneness, exploring individual expression; then, returning into the Ocean of Awareness.
In time Little Ocean met other little oceans of awareness. Some of them too were bored with only being an ocean, nothing else. The other little oceans told their stories. Some had tried to freeze-frame one individual wave, at its peak expression of individuality, hold it stable and not moving, like a snapshot picture, attempted to worship this one static wave expression, to preserve it, prevent it from returning back into the ocean of awareness.
The strangest, most unbelievable story told was of individual waves competing with one another, to see who could be the best wave. The little oceans all said this was exhausting. So our first Little Ocean enjoyed sharing what he’d learned about the rhythm of doing and being.
